Coincidence Melon
by gooberliberation
Summary: The different Yuuko sprites explained! Yuri/Shoujo-ai


Author's note: I do not own Katawa Shoujo or its characters. Story based on Act 1 demo and contains elements that may be contradicted by the full release.

* * *

Coincidence Melon

* * *

My boss's boss came to the cubicle I shared with the other office girls in my department to deliver the bad news. Whenever he came by, it was always something bad. I've been working there for... I have no idea how long and I have yet to see him compliment any of us or give us good news.

Mister Yamagata did a his quick survey of us girls as we ate our lunches and cleared his throat.

With a militaristic bark, he yelled out "Shirakawa!" and brought me to my feet.

"You call this collating?" he ripped, throwing aside the division meeting briefings I spent all morning on. "Page seven is upside down!"

"You got some nerve crying like that in my office," he continued. "Don't you dare think you can cover up your lousy performance this fiscal year with waterworks. I've got my eye on you, Shirakawa."

"Don't worry about it Yoko," one of my coworkers said.

"Yeah, Yukiko," another reassured, "he's like that with everyone."

These people were the closest I had to friends and they didn't even know my name.

...

Okay, one cart down, three more to go. If my backlog for book shelving gets any bigger, I'll get canned for sure. Every time I ask why they won't hire a page or two to help me out, they reply with "What's that, Shirakawa? You can't handle the job? How about instead of finding a page to help you, we just find a new assistant librarian, hm?"

It's the same thing at Shanghai. I try to be alert, I try to be attentive, and I try to be efficient, but all I ever do is screw up. Even after I was suspended from my tea-house job for spilling dishwater all over the latest shipment of expensive imported teas, I struggled to catch up with my workload at the library.

"Um, excuse me. Can you take it outside?"

It was too late. Hisao and Kenji's game of pretend commandos and terrorists knocked over the reference section, starting with one shelf and escalating to a domino effect that scattered every compendium in the library.

"Sorry, Yuuko, I gotta go to class," Hisao mumbled when he shrugged off my request for his help in cleaning up.

Kenji wasn't as kind. He used to be such a nice boy. I missed those stimulating afternoons of conversation and reflection. He's a changed man now. He's outgrown me, so to speak.

"Bitches stay in the kitchen!" he grunted, grabbing his crotch in disobedience.

That was my life.

...

"Oh, Shirakawa, um, this is awkward."

My supervisor at the bakery evaded eye contact with me and went back to training some new girl. I knew it. I was replaced. How I would stay in school and keep up with my rent, I did not know.

"Don't be like that, Shirakawa, you're still on board. It's just that, well, you're a student, right? I'm sure you'll appreciate a cut in your hours over time."

"Free" to focus on my studies, I hopped on my bicycle and sped off to school. I didn't like this bike. It was built for men and was an ugly metallic yellow. I had no choice, though. My last two bikes were stolen and this was the only one in stock at the time.

By some small miracle, I managed to get signed up for a program at school. It took some begging, but I narrowly avoided getting booted off the wait list.

I guess life wasn't all bad after all.

...

"I've been dropped?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Shirakawa, but you've been accepted into a program that conflicts with your current schedule."

I looked at my new class schedule and I couldn't believe my eyes. My entire schedule had been gutted. Everything conflicted with my work schedule. There was no way I could attend these classes.

"Th-This has to be some mistake! I didn't sign up for these."

"Yes you did, I remember you from earlier today. Miss Shirakawa, the typical wait period to get in is three semesters, are you sure you want to surrender your spot?"

I bit my lip indecisively. I didn't sign up for that stuff but I didn't mind the idea of taking those classes. I'd get things to work. Somehow. I always did.

"Um, let me think about it."

The counselor sighed and dismissed me with "You have until Monday evening to change your mind."

I went back home to my apartment, located halfway between school and work. My head was splitting from my current situation from school, but I'll have to endure somehow.

Endure. That's all I've been doing with my life. Not thriving, not prospering, in fact, barely even living. All I ever did was endure. Whatever the case, the problems at school were Monday's problems. It was time to kick back, relax, and worry about everything else.

...

"Y-You rejected my deposit?"

"Reject, nothing. How about instead of trying to switch apartments, you try paying your rent for once. We can't even consider moving you around until you settle your account for the old one."

I could not believe my eyes. I moved out of my old apartment hoping to find a cheaper place to stay here, and here I see my potential new landlord trying to swindle me out of my money.

"Look, it's only seventy-two thousand you owe me. It's actually less than the deposit you put up. Just pay up your rent and we'll figure out your move when the new check clears."

"I don't understand. I don't live here."

"Yeah you do! I just saw you walk in an hour ago!"

I dropped my head onto the counter with a thud after I looked outside and saw that the taxi driver I paid to wait simply dumped my bags out onto the curb and drove off. I grabbed the check I put up as a deposit and voided it, then wrote a new one for "rent."

I didn't care anymore whether or not I was being ripped off. I needed a roof over my head that night and I needed it immediately.

"I suppose you locked yourself out as well," the landlord said when he fished a hefty keyring out of the drawer. I would've preferred help with my bags but I suppose getting into "my" apartment was more important.

After getting the door opened for me, I dumped my armload of luggage into the entrance then ran back out to get the rest of my things. After wrestling my underwear box out of the hands of a vagrant, I had finished my rounds. Closing the door behind me, I gave out a pained sigh when I realized that the landlord didn't give me a copy of the key. The prospect of recruiting someone's help every time I had to come inside left a bad taste in my mouth.

With my ordeal for the evening at least slightly over, I was finally home.

Or rather, I was finally in _someone's_ home.

I knew that the place would be furnished but this was something else. This was already being lived in. There were magazines on the dining table, pens in a cup by the telephone, and my favorite pop singer was playing on the stereo. The plates drying next to the sink were just like the cheap resin ones I had in my luggage somewhere, the rice cooker was the same as the one I sold off before moving out, and even the slippers by the door were just like the ones I brought with me.

It looked just how it would have if I really did live there. The exhausting day left me feeling sour and dry inside. I was in no mood to straighten this out with the building manager that night so I hoped that whoever lived here would let me stay the night, considering that I paid her, well, probably her, rent for the past two months. I wondered if the tenant here liked to lounge around her apartment naked just like I did.

A terrified shriek from the bedroom door confirmed that yes, she did.

...

This wasn't happening. Why did it have to happen today of all days? Well, I don't know of any day that would be ideal for breaking and entering, but between the disaster at the library, and the screw-up at school, getting murdered by a strange woman was the last thing I wanted.

"Get a grip, Yuuko," I said out loud, trying to straighten out my thoughts.

Okay, so the obvious course of action would be to call the police... but the only phone line was in the living room, and my cell phone was there too. I settled on running to the kitchen, grabbing some pans, then fighting off the burglar until I could contact help.

But why did I have to be naked?

Just when I lurched out of my corner in the bedroom to grab a shirt, she came into the room. I just couldn't help myself and did the only natural thing possible, I completely lost myself crying out in sheer terror. That was it for me. Not even three decades on the planet and I was going to die without a thread of dignity on myself.

"BWEEEEEEEEEEEK!" I heard myself wail out... but not from my mouth.

When the crippling grip of panic faded, I opened my eyes and looked at my assailant, who looked just as terrified as I was feeling. She was wearing my clothes. Or well, no, not exactly. I don't think I had anything exactly like what she was wearing, but I did have to look twice to make sure she didn't loot my closet.

It wasn't enough that she was dressed like me, she even looked like me. Same eyes, same hair- well, if I ever wore my hair down -and even the same freckles, which she proudly displayed instead of caking on makeup to hide them like I do. If I were ever the subject of a movie, she could passably play me or the other way around.

"Um, um... E-Excuse me?" I, no, she timidly asked, "I'm in a bit of a bind right now. If it's not too much trouble, would it be okay if I spent the night here?"

That's it. I was hallucinating. I must have fallen over backwards while dancing around in the living room and had concussed myself. This whole doppelganger thing was a side effect of blood pooling in the back of my skull while I slowly died on the floor.

Since I was going to die anyway, I decided to have a little fun. I looked at my living mirror from an alternate universe where I wore less makeup and wore my hair down and moved in closer. And just like clockwork, she did the same. I scratched my head, so did she. I waved my arms, she did too. I moved my palms all the way forward, expecting to feel cold glass as our hands touched but instead I found warm, soft skin.

I capitalized on my dying vision and drifted my face forward and closed my eyes. Our warm breath swirled together when our lips met. She wasn't a different person. She was me. That wasn't the taste of a stranger but the familiar flavor I carried with me wherever I went. Meeting her tongue with my own felt as natural as touching my lips together whenever I closed my mouth.

...

I still don't know why I didn't stop her from kissing me, but frankly, I'm glad I didn't. To an outsider, what we did would have looked strange and in violation of every rule of common sense. None of that mattered. I had a bad day, she probably did too, and when we touched, we were healed.

Kissing the girl felt so good, so perverse, that it had to be wrong. Nobody makes out with complete strangers like that. But she wasn't really a stranger. I knew nothing, yet everything about the girl. Having her close to me felt like a reunion of lost souls.

We threw our glasses aside when they started getting in the way. Her glasses were the style I considered getting if the ones I have weren't in stock.

"H-Hi."

I don't remember who said that. I saw it come from her lips, but it felt like it came from my throat.

"I'm Yuuko, what's your name?"

I should have known. What else could her name have been? A rational person would have doubted her story, but as we've both demonstrated, neither of us are very rational.

"Yuuko, Yuuko Shirakawa."

We shared each other's life stories but really, we didn't need to. Our lives were identical ones that differed only in details. Our parents were had similar personalities, we had the same birthday, and we both had disastrous parallel misadventures in search for love. We grew up hundreds of kilometers apart, but by following the same dreams, we converged on this neighborhood, attended the same college, and lived incomplete halves of the same life, separately.

I held Yuuko close to me and admired our synergy in her standing mirror. Even with our names and histories, our differences showed in our faces. If seen together, we could be mistaken for fraternal twins. We were alike in every way that mattered, yet different in every way that counted.

...

The feeling of Yuuko's blouse against my bare skin made me burn with feelings I have never felt before. In her identically malachite eyes, I saw my surplus passion trickle into her, making her feeling the same. I peeled away her baggy clothes to see what kind of secrets were hidden beneath.

She was slimmer than I was and was better endowed. I wasn't jealous though. I felt like her body was mine and if either of us ever worked up the courage to flaunt our figures, our pride would pool together and we'd enjoy it equally. I untied my hair and let it fall over my shoulders. In the mirror, I saw that my own face was softer, more youthful than hers. I was never much to look at, but with Yuuko making up for my shortcomings, I... we felt beautiful.

In unison, we crawled to my bed to complete our reunification. I found the one place where we are truly identical, right down to the taste. Being familiar with our own bodies, we had no trouble painting each other in ecstasy. There wasn't a single spot on Yuuko that I didn't make my mark on with my tongue.

Together, we blurred into one. I felt what I did to her, while she felt what she did to me. Glued together with our limbs entwined, we found our way back home in each other.

We had no luck with love before because love is the fusion between two separate wholes. Neither of us were complete enough to find love in another. We needed to find it with ourselves first.

...

"Yuuko?"

"Yes, Yuuko?"

"Thanks for paying my rent. I'm sorry I messed up your moving plans."

"Don't worry about it. It was just a case of mistaken identity. And I'm sorry about the school mistaking us for each other and for ruining your schedule."

"It's okay. It was just a case of mistaken identit... No. No it wasn't. It was fate."

Calling the events that brought us together a "case of mistaken identity" would be wrong. We weren't mistaken for each other because we are each other. Talking to Yuuko felt like a formality more than anything else. We needed no words to transmit our feelings to each other, merely the details.

"On monday, let's both go to our school and get our schedules straightened up."

"Okay. But how about in public, you can call me 'Yuu,' and I will call you 'Ko.' Or the other way around if you would like. And tomorrow, We'll straighten things out with the landlord and get you your own place.

"Okay, Yuu, but... I... I know we'll be neighbors but having walls between us when we're at home will be hard. I was hoping that maybe..."

"I'm glad, Ko... I don't want you to leave either. Besides, I don't think either of us could afford a place on our own."

I unpacked my things and dispersed my belongings in my new home. Yuuko's apartment was never cozy and neither was mine. With the décor from our sparse dwellings combined, we finally had a decent looking home together. For our entire lives, it was just ourselves against the world, with the world winning. Together, we might just make it.

"I love you, Yuuko."

"I love you too, Yuuko."

...

"Shirakawa, about these presentations you compiled, just what the hell were you thinking when you-"

"When I WHAT? When I stapled them together? The head of purchasing sent out a memo telling us to use no more than two staples per packet. If you've got a problem with that, take that up with Mrs. Matsuda and not me!"

"Erm, yes Shirakawa. I do recall seeing that email as well. Keep up the good work."

"Wow, Yuuko! For a moment it looked like you were going to scare the old man's toupee off! Where'd you grow balls like that?"

"I've been on a roll since I was promoted to night manager at the bakery."

"By the way, you're looking... I don't know how to say it, but you're looking more rested, younger even."

"Thanks."

...

"Mister Setou, Mister Nakai, I do believe you two owe me a clean library!"

"Piss off, firecrotch. I've got..."

"Whatever plans you had before have been canceled. I've got a letter here from your homeroom teachers telling me your asses are MINE until the end of the week or whenever the shelving carts are empty, whichever comes _last_."

"Ow! Ow! Okay, fine, just let go of my ear!"

"I'm glad to hear it, Kenji. I missed your mature, responsible phase."

"Hey Kenji... I don't remember Yuuko being so... stacked, do you?"

"Can't see shit, cap'n. But if what you're saying is correct, then maybe she's gone back to her insectoid lair over the weekend and popped out of her cocoon."

...

My name is Yuuko Shirakawa. I have two mothers, two fathers, and two hometowns. I went to two different high schools, had two different first loves, and I study two different majors in college. I have four jobs, four eyes, two hearts, but only one soul. I can be in two places at once.

Finally, my fractured life is whole.

-End-


End file.
